Now the son of the King of Ulster stood before Fin, and saluted him.
“Who are you?” asked Fin.
“I am Goll, son of the King of Ulster, and these twelve are my foster-brothers. We have come to give you what assistance we can.”
“My welcome to you,” said Fin.
The reviling of Dealv Dura was heard now again.
“Who is that?” asked the king’s son from Ulster.
“An enemy asking for two hundred warriors of mine to meet him,” said Fin.
Here the twelve foster-brothers went to the strand, unknown to the king’s son.
“You are not a man,” said Conan Maol, “and none of these twelve could face any warrior.”